Forgiveness
by LoLisdead
Summary: Draco Malfoy comes to terms with who he is but struggles with PTSD in his own home. Harry Potter remains as oblivious as ever and is slow to accept help from the only other student at Hogwarts who understands what it's like to not have a choice. Eighth year fic, Drarry, shared dormitories.
1. Chapter 1

Draco and Luna Lovegood were outside on the shore of the Black Lake, enjoying the warm air before the chill of fall began to sink in at Hogwarts. They were working on homework, her Defense and him Ancient Runes. They remained silent for the most part, once they focused on their books and parchment sitting in front of them.

It was still odd to Draco, that Luna decided to spend time with him. Following the war and the Ministry's trials, he was invited back to Hogwarts to finish his education there and complete his degree, along with others who missed the year due to the events of the war. When he first received the letter, he couldn't believe the school was inviting him back. His mother was so happy for him, that he was still being given a chance. He took the opportunity, admitting that he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the world outside Hogwarts just yet. He wasn't sure what he wanted anymore and having some extra time to figure out what he where he wanted to go following school was welcome.

It wasn't easy being back, many of the students have not welcomed his presence and have gone out of the way to let him know. None of them were brave enough to fight him, it was all threats that were never carried out. Between all the threats and the side-glances, he was glad for Luna to have befriended him. Sure, Pansy and Blaise had returned as well, but Luna was different. She seemed to have never inherited the human characteristic of judgment, her pureness drew Draco to her. After a life of living surrounded by people who were, well, very much unlike Luna, it was like a fresh of breath air.

It was for this reason that he was planning on discussing something Draco hasn't been able to accept about himself for a long time. He's never told anyone or spoke about out loud, for fear of being judged and rumors spreading. Even though he's only gotten to know Luna over the past month, he trusted her with one of his darkest secrets, something he began to realize he was going to have to accept sooner rather than later.

"Luna?" he tentatively broke the silence between them, his heart pounding. He looked at the girl sitting across from him, her eyes looking curiously at him, a long strand of her blonde hair sticking to her lips,

"Yes?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something." Draco's voice was so different from normal, quiet and scared. This piqued Luna's interest, as she pulled the strand of hair from her lips, she remained silent, waiting for Draco to speak again and watching him calmly.

"I think—" he swallowed, shaking his head, if his heart was pounding any harder he might've exploded, "I'm gay."

Luna smiled, seemingly unfazed by his confession, "Well I'm not surprised, it was quite obvious to me. I've seen the way you look at Harry." Draco stared at the girl in front of him, so shocked he felt nauseous. _How could she tell?_ He attempted to deny it,

"Oh no Luna," he began with a faked breath of disbelief, as if the idea was preposterous, "there are _much_ finer pieces of arse here at Hogwarts then Potter's, honestly he's such an annoying little—"

He was interrupted by a little giggle from Luna, then, "See, there it is. You always get so flustered at him being brought up. You guys have been biting at each other's backs every year at Hogwarts. It always seemed like you wanted his attention."

Draco stared at his friend, scared. _How_ did she know? No one else knew, did they? She looked back, waiting for a response. Draco started up, his emotions fiery; his voice going back to the old snappy way it would whenever Potter was brought up,

"No, why on Earth would I ever want _his_ attention? It's because he acts as if the whole world revolves around his agenda, it's so irritating how big-headed he is—" His nerves flared up in annoyance when Luna interrupted again, he glared daggers at her. Most people winced under that glare of his.

"You know Draco, he's actually a really good guy once you get to know him."

Draco huffed, crossing his arms and staring at Luna, trying so hard to be mad at her. She was doing _exactly_ what he's seen during his years at school, everyone claiming how _amazing_ Potter is. His anger melted, however, as she spoke again,

"I know I've never been one many people like to be around or understand. My dad taught me things that no one else here believes. No one really took me seriously for a long time or ever bothered to get to know me.

"Before I met Harry, I could understand where you were coming from. With an outside perspective, he seemed like quite the popular guy around the school, all sorts of excitement and trouble following him, being one of the best Quidditch players in school, having as many friends as he did. It was easy to be jealous of him.

"In fifth-year, I was personally introduced to him and his group of friends. I saw that Harry was considerate and actually listened to what I had to say, I was there when he saw thestrals for the first time after Cedric was killed, I had to tell them what they were. I think he cared for me as a friend after that. The boy everyone seemed to think of being so arrogant was acknowledging me in the hallways, including me in his group of friends, even inviting me to help him and his friends with an important quest that year. He really is quite a lovely person. He's much lonelier than everyone makes him out to be."

Draco had to admit her words held merit. That Harry was much quieter than he expected, he was sharing a room in the separate eight-year dormitories with Weasley, Finnigan, and Harry. He does seem to spend more time alone than expected, usually studying. Draco had to admit he thought Harry surrounded himself with more people. Thought he sent more time partying in his common room. He also was often kept awake by Harry's screaming at night. It made his heart sink and it took every ounce of his being to not crawl up in bed next to him and hold him, comfort him.

"He has nightmares," Draco admitted quietly, "Bad nightmares. I'm the only one who is woken up by his screaming. I mean, I think all of us get nightmares, but his seem intense. It makes me wonder what he's been through in the war..." Luna smiled weakly at Draco opening up to her, letting him continue speaking his thoughts, "I would just put a silencing spell around his bed, I think the other two guys put some around their own so it blocks out Harry. I can't seem to get myself to do it. To just block out his screams is to ignore his pain and leave him alone in it."

"That's awful thoughtful of you, Draco. He deserves someone like you."

Draco got a lump in his throat and he couldn't swallow. Did he just admit that he did like Potter? He continued to explain why he felt this way about Potter's pain.

"I have nightmares too, and I wonder if I scream as he does. Terrible things happened in my home, things I will never be able to forget. Sometimes I wonder if he hears my nightmares too."

"Why don't you ask him? If you wake him up at night? That'll be a good way to start a conversation with him. I'm sure it's difficult for you to find a way to talk to him."

Draco couldn't believe his ears, he almost laughed, Luna was trying to help him talk to Harry. He didn't even confirm her beliefs, that yes, he did like Harry. Liked him so much he dreamt of gaining his attention.

"Luna, I don't think that's something you can just bring up to somebody you don't really know."

"You do know each other though. You have since you were eleven. You guys have a lot you can relate with, I think Harry would be open to talking with you. Especially if you show him you've changed."

Draco sighed, letting his guard down even further, "Ok so maybe I do find Potter attractive. I don't think he'd even give me a chance at friendship though, Luna. I was a right asshole through the years."

"You told me he came to your hearing, correct? Saved you from being sent to Azkaban?"

Draco nodded, remembering the court hearing at the ministry once Voldemort was defeated. They were determining how long in Azkaban he should spend. Any Death Eater who had committed murder was there for life, he and his mother were different. They had never committed murder for the Dark Lord, his mother never became a Death Eater herself. Potter appeared out of nowhere in the middle of it, testifying that him and his mother worked against the Dark Lord, in the end. He hadn't even looked at Draco during it, just came and went without an exchange of dialogue, or even eye contact.

Draco's voice was small, "Yeah, he did. Both my mother and me. I thanked him at the beginning of the term and haven't spoken to him since."

"That speaks volumes, Draco. Maybe he's waiting for you to speak to him."

He swallowed, shaking his head, "I don't know, Luna. I haven't even come terms with my sexuality as a whole, let alone my feelings for _Potter_."

"You'll get there, there's nothing wrong with being gay. I like you just the same." With this Luna looked back down at his book, continuing her homework as if they were just talking about the weather. It made his throat tighten in emotion. For years, he'd been so awful to himself for who he was. How he was a failure, how he was a fucking wanker who wasn't a _real_ Malfoy. Who shouldn't be the heir of the Malfoy name and estate. And the first person he dared tell accepted him for it right away, without any second thoughts. He smiled, looking down at his homework with a small feeling of hope in his gut.

.

.

.

Draco was excited to return home for a week of his holidays at home, he hadn't seen his mother since apparating to Hogwarts for the beginning of term. He could tell through the letters they've regularly exchanged throughout the term that she missed him. She asked about how Hogwarts was now, how the professors and students were treating him. There were no mentions of grades, she didn't seem to care much at all about those sorts of things without his father around anymore. It seemed like his mother just wanted him to be happy and comfortable.

It was something he wasn't used to, receiving love from his mother with no fear of his father around. Draco felt as if he was finally beginning to feel comfortable with his mother. Even though she was lonely, she was thriving under the roof of Malfoy Manor without her spouse. She had loved Lucius so deeply but recognized that he'd become power-hungry long ago. That by allowing himself to become so close to _him_ while she was pregnant with their son, that he was putting his family in danger. Maybe if they'd have stayed more neutral, her son wouldn't have been forced to become a Death Eater in order to keep them all alive. Maybe Draco wouldn't have had to see the horrible, horrible things he witnessed in his own household as he was still just a boy.

In their written conversation, his mother seemed to be trying to get to know him. They used to be close when he was a child, before coming to Hogwarts. As he aged into his teenage years, everything he had struggled with as he tried finding the identity he kept to himself. If that was her intention, it was working.

Draco was planning on having a conversation with her, as this summer they didn't share too many thoughts on what had happened to their lives the past three years. They were both too busy dealing with relearning how to live in their own household without fearing what they might find around the corner. Draco had spent many hours outside in their garden, practicing little bits of magic in order to calm himself. He tried to spend as little time in the manor as possible. Even during the sleepless nights when he was too afraid of the nightmares, he'd be outside. None of the other Death Eaters ever went out in their garden. It was his safe spot.

He was in his dormitory, gathering the few items he was going to need for his week at home, he was alone as he closed his small trunk in finality, positive he hadn't forgotten anything. He looked down at his outfit, smoothing his slacks a bit before sighing. He was picking up his winter coat from his bed and beginning to cover himself with it as he heard footsteps approaching from outside.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw it was Potter entering the dorm, looking for something in his trunk. Draco swallowed, as he continued to put on his winter coat. Only as Potter stood, with a textbook in his hand, did he look at Draco. He stopped when he saw him with a packed trunk, and his coat on.

"Where are you headed?" Potter inquired, his voice holding a tone of surprise.

Draco's heart was making up for it's lost beat, he avoided Potter's emerald gaze, knowing he'd flush if he got locked into it, this was the first term Potter was speaking to him since he thanked him for the coming to his hearing, "Headed home for a week of break," Malfoy answered, sounding nonchalant despite his internal monologue.

Harry looked confused, "Aren't you going to take the Hogwart's Express tomorrow?"

"No," Draco explained, "I've gotten permission from McGonagall to apparate back home outside of the school's charms, so I'm leaving tonight instead of tomorrow."

"Oh," Harry looked shocked, awkwardly rubbing his already-messy, enduring hair, "Well I'll leave you to it then."

As the brunette turned to leave, something sparked in Draco. A bit of bravery, maybe staying with the Gryffindors had an effect on him, "Hey Potter?"

Emerald eyes turned back at him, unable to hide clear curiosity, eyeing him up and down, "Yeah?" This curiosity gave him the nerve to speak.

"I hope you have a nice break, lord knows we all need it. Happy Christmas."

Potter stared, speechless for a long moment. Malfoy watched, waiting for a reaction—almost causing Draco to regret the sentiment. Blinking, Potter finally answered, a bit of a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth, "Happy Christmas, Malfoy."

And with that Potter turned and left, leaving Malfoy and his fluttering heart to himself.

.

.

.

As Draco went downstairs, dressed to face the winter air and wind outside, he was glad Potter was nowhere to be found. He would've seen his pink face, a direct effect of Draco considering their interaction. As he walked through the castle alone, he couldn't help but smile a bit.

He and Potter had _spoken_ to one another. No fighting, no bickering, no edge to their voices. It made Draco's heart soar. He cursed himself for acting like a third year with a massive crush, yet still accepted the interaction as a step in the right direction. He had given Luna's words back from the beginning of the term some serious thought, that maybe they weren't so different, that maybe they knew each other more than they thought.

As he stepped outside the walls of the castle, into the path of the wind, his body instinctively clenched, and Potter left his mind as he braved the stinging wind, walking down the path to Hogsmeade, cursing the ward preventing apparition within the castle's walls.

Ten minutes later, the moment he left the circumference of the wards, he stopped and took a breath, before concentrating on the face of his home, every detail he could imagine, and focused on that only. He knew if he didn't, the consequences could be deadly. His determination to see his mother for the first time in months caused the familiar feelings of being squeezed while free-falling through a tight space to lurch in his stomach, a force hitting his body as he disapparated from his spot outside of Hogwarts to the center of the path outside the front of Malfoy Manor.

Slightly winded from the intensity of the apparition, he took a minute to clutch his heart and let the shakiness leave his limbs. He looked at the dark, looming building in front of him, and many emotions stirred within him. The first instinct was fear, fear of what he witnessed happen in the house in the past few years. Then excitement, forcing himself to remember his mother was inside, waiting to see him. Motivation as he began to approach the front door, attempting to suppress the initial fear.

Whether he liked it or not, the manor was his to inherit. And he had plans for the place, a bit of redecoration and changing some of the floor plans. He felt it was outdated and the thought of remodeling the home someday gave him some hope of ridding himself of the demons he felt within it. At first, he was afraid of changing it, when it was such an important possession of his family's blood. It was at Hogwarts he let go of this thought, that something needed to change in his bloodline. It was time for the Malfoy's to update themselves with the times, and to continue cursing those without pureblood and hiding away in a dark, depressing home was not the way to do it. If he were to have children, they would not grow up in the same environment he had.

When he entered the entrance hall, the front doors welcomed him into the home without the need of him opening them himself, he immediately headed to his mother's favorite room in the house, one of the commons rooms downstairs. He ignored the countless portraits of the old Malfoy's watching him go through the entrance hallway, his footsteps muffled by the long carpet, knowing they hardly approved them of being part of the Malfoy name. The only opinion in his family he truly cared about was Narcissa's.

He smiled as he entered the common room, gently stepping inside, watching his mother reading a book in her lap. Her light hair was pulled back in her usual up-do, and a few lines of age defined her eyes, yet she managed to look as graceful as ever. She hadn't noticed his arrival until he cleared his throat, gently announcing his presence.

His mother looked up, her blue eyes widened at seeing her son before her, she breathed quietly, "Draco—" before carefully setting the book down on an end table, standing up to greet him.

He expected his usual greeting from her, a simple kiss on the cheek. He was shocked and unsure how to react to her gently embracing him in a hug, this was unusual for her. He gently hugged her back, suddenly finding it hard to swallow, losing himself in the embrace. The words of the hateful students at school rang in his ear quickly, and only then did he realize just how much he missed his mother, worried about her spending so much time alone in this accursed home.

"I've missed you so much, Draco."

He pulled away from her, looking a few inches down at her, clearing the tightness in his throat before speaking, "I have missed you as well mother. I've been worried about you."

Narcissa laughed gently and shortly, "And I you. Go and get yourself settled, dear, and get a good night of rest. We have plenty of time to catch up this week."


	2. Chapter 2

The feeling of comfort that drew from finally seeing his mother grew more and more distant from his heart and mind as he headed upstairs, further and further away from her, as he followed the familiar trip to his bedroom. He couldn't shake the feeling of somebody standing behind him, following him through the empty hallways of the house, waiting until he turned around to hex him. To torture him, to murder him. He breath became more and more shallow as he felt the presence of the person behind him getting closer and closer to him, until he jumped at the sensation of a breath on the back of his neck. He yelped, jumping out of his skin. In an instant he drew his wand and pointed it behind him. As he looked behind him he felt the figure move behind him again, and he turned back around again. He slowly backed up to the wall nearest him, frantically turning his head in all directions, until his back hit the wall and he dropped his trunk next to him. He didn't hear it hit the ground.

He couldn't breathe, something was blocking his airway and it felt like he was being choked, and he broke down, silently sobbing and wanting to shrink from existence, needing to hide in hands and cry, yet being too terrified to stop watching his surroundings, not wanting to be caught off guard. He needed to stay on guard.

His breath came in shallow, quick gulps and it never quite reached his lungs that way it should. His wand was shaking in his hand as his body convulsed in panic, unable to shake the feeling of a wand being held to the back of his head, even though the only thing behind him was the wall of the corridor. He couldn't see through his tears, and his eyes stung. Somebody else was there, he _was_ in danger and it was driving him _crazy_. He wasn't _safe_. His entire body was covered in sweat, and he couldn't stop hyperventilating as his body slowly slid to the floor, leaning against the wall behind him still.

_I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die_.

A sudden crack next to him caused him to finally hide his head in his hands, his fingers grasping his blonde hair in fear, he retreated far into himself, his heart pounding so hard he didn't hear the gentle voice next to him sounding out,

"Master Malfoy?"

He sobbed, head tucking further into his huddled body, his entire being trembling with panic, there were Death Eaters surrounding him, they all escaped Azkaban, and they were back to claim the manor for themselves once again…

"Master Malfoy!"

He heard them talking, even saying the name "Malfoy." He wasn't crazy, he wasn't crazy. He was not crazy. They were going to dispose of him and take everything, they were going to hurt his mother. He couldn't even defend her. He was a _failure_…

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he felt an unnatural calm swim through his body, calming the trembling and easing his breath, the swelling inside his throat slowly resigning itself.

"Master Malfoy…" a high-pitched voice gently called out, finally registered by the blonde huddled against the wall, as the creature used subtle magic to calm their master. Draco slowly looked up, and saw to his left, Ceely the house elf standing beside him. He groaned and closed his eyes in relief, wiping the remaining tears away.

"Master Malfoy, do you feel better?"

He looked down the hallway to his right, and behind Ceely to his left, there were no Death Eaters there like he had been convinced of. He still felt the Ceely's calming magic helping him,

"C-Ceely," Draco said quietly, his voice pathetic and raspy from crying, "Yes, yes a bit."

"Shall I escort you to your bedroom, master?"

Draco took another deep breath, feeling even more panic leaving his system, his head clearing up, "Yes."

"I'll get your trunk," Ceely commented, waiting for Draco to be ready to stand back up and travel the remaining route to his bedroom. They walked side by side to Draco's room, no more words spoken between them.

Ceely helped Malfoy recover in his bedroom, helping him unpack and get himself comfortable. He asked her for a glass of firewhiskey and she gladly delivered. Before she left she placed a powerful charm around his bedroom that nothing but the three of them could pass through. If anyone else tried Ceely would be notified immediately and be there to protect him. She did this without him asking, she just understood it would help Malfoy feel safer at night.

He slowly drank the firewhiskey as he read a book he took from the library, on the advanced potion making they were focusing on in Slughorn's class. Between Ceely's charm and the firewhiskey, he felt considerably calmer. However, he was finding it more and more difficult to focus on the book in front of him and more on the interaction he had with Potter in their dormitory. He found himself smiling at the exchange and was glad they were able to hold a conversation without a fight breaking out. It didn't seem like Potter held the same hard feelings the rest of the student body had. Maybe it was from when visited here, back when _he_ had control of the manor. He quickly shook this thought, it wasn't good for his psyche. He needed to stay calm for the night.

He thought of doing something he's wanted to since he talked with Luna. He decided to try, if he didn't like it he didn't need to send it. He just needed to get his thoughts out on paper. He stayed awake for the next few hours writing…

The next day, Draco sat with his mother in the potions room of the manor, mostly enjoying each other's company. His mother was brewing dreamless draught, as their supplies were getting low. Malfoy occasionally assisted her, and he was the better potion-maker of the two of them. However, unless she asked for his assistance he sat back and read the same book he began the next before.

He waited for her to finish bottling the potions she brewed before clearly his throat, desperately trying to swallow the nerves he built up about conversation he was going to initiate. This is part of his goal for this week, was to open himself up to his mother. Something he never really got the chance to do in a long time. He knew she wanted him to, yet also wouldn't push him to either.

"Yes, Draco?"

"Well, I was hoping to talk to you about something. It's just, it goes against everything I've ever been taught and I wanted to know where you stand on it now. So much has changed and—"

"What is it you want to ask me, darling?" His mother sat down on a chair across the small table he was sitting at, and she waited patiently. She must've been able to see this meant a lot to her son.

"Well, it's kind of about continuing the family name. About _the_ way to do it. The way I've always been told I have to do it." His heart raced, and he wanted to run away. But that old, harden way his father disciplined him growing up kept him in his seat, ironically. "About how you and father always told me marrying a pureblood and having pureblood children is the number one priority. That blood purity is always number one." When he spoke it out loud now, it made him sick to himself. He wanted to leave it all behind. He didn't want to be known as that type of wizard anymore, and so much of that depended on how his mother answered.

She did not speak for a minute, quietly thinking about what her son was saying. It was meant to be a question. He wanted to know how she felt about these values after the war. After all that happened to them. After what the chase for blood purity for the wizarding world had left their family with. Pulled them apart, tore them down, and left them out to dry with no one to care for them. An embarrassment and black-listed from the world.

She stood up, and walked over the nearest window, contemplating her answer carefully. She gazed out into the back gardens she helped care for the past few months. Something she was never supposed to do back when Lucius was here. He thought she was above labor such as that. She sighed,

"There's a fair amount Lucius and I no longer see eye to eye on." The silence following was heavy, and her breathe shook before she continued, "Where it all led us. Everything we worked towards. There's no better evidence proving its failure. I know you see that, Draco."

Draco nodded, swallowing. His heart continued racing, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. If father could hear here speak like this…

But there was a reason he no longer could.

"You haven't visited him since the trials. I have, and when I do we just enjoy each other's company. No longer do we speak of the future, he asks how you are doing. But no dreams of what your future will be. He understands that whatever the future is for you, he is no longer part of it. But he does not regret it, how he raised you. The values he instilled in you. He still believes in it all, the blood purity and the traditional ways. But he is no longer part of our future."

Draco was shocked. He couldn't believe the words he was hearing, and he stared at his mother. She looked away from the window and back at him. She saw her son, who was here with her, looking for her approval to break away from everything he was taught. She could choose the old ways, the ways that have been left to rot in Azkaban or accept the new ones and build a new future for her son.

She smiled at him, the fine wrinkles under her eyes showing through, "I am so glad you are here with me, Dragon. All I ask for is for you to be happy and content, and to be able to choose for yourself." She walked back to the table to sit back down, looking directly in her son's eyes. She could see him growing up quickly, thinking about his life ahead of him

Draco spoke quietly, suddenly not feeling as afraid, "So if I have children and they aren't pureblood…you approve of that?"

"I suppose so, yes. I've been in touch with my sister, Andromeda. I've invited her and her grandson over for Christmas. Her daughter, Nymphadora, who was your cousin, had a child with somebody who is not pureblood before she died in the war. While it is difficult for me to push past all the traditional ways that have always been pushed into me throughout my life, I can see hope in life without them. Talking to her through letters has helped me see that."

Once again, Draco was shocked. He knew of his Aunt Andromeda but was always told not to bring her up with mother. That they didn't get along and that she was a sore subject. He pushed forward carefully,

"There's something I've wanted to tell you for a while, but only recently came to terms with myself. I, uhm—" the nerves struck back, causing his stomach to curl, "What if I told you that if I have children, they would not be with a woman." He ended it in a statement more than a question, and he felt his being suspended on the edge in anticipation of fear.

Once again quiet for a moment, Narcissa looked at her son, viewing him carefully. Seeing the fear in his eyes broke her heart. "All I ask for is that he would treat you well and raise my grandchild with as much care as I myself would, Dragon. If that is what makes you happy, then I support it.

Draco couldn't contain the smile. It was so much relief, and the weight dropped off his shoulders. Before he could control himself, he found the emotion swimming in his eyes and his smile broke even wider. It was the acceptance he never knew he needed so badly. Seeing his mother smile back and grab his hand from across the table pushed the first tear over the edge, and it was both embarrassing and freeing,

The part of him that was raised by his father scolded him, showing emotion like this was not the Malfoy way and should be suppressed behind closed doors. It was not strong.

But it was also why it was freeing. It was the first time he truly felt like his father was no longer there, and it was yet another thing he didn't know he needed to feel. Lucius Malfoy no longer had control over the household, him and his mother were free to do as they pleased.

They ended up embracing again, Draco unable to stop his tears. He finally felt free in his own home. While being there was still difficult for him, the trauma still living within him, it made him feel hopeful for the future.

Harry Potter sat staring at the Transfiguration textbook before him, attempting to focus on researching for the essay which was due at the end of the break. Hermione insisted that he and Ron should get a head start on the subject, claiming it was a difficult subject. That, and she demanded she wouldn't help them edit it the night before it was due unless they researched it now. The three of them sat at the table in the library, books piled high and a few of them open in front of them.

It was too bad Harry couldn't focus on the subject of human transfiguration, his mind was revolving around the short conversation he held with Draco Malfoy. While short, he felt it held a ton of information. Information that he considered much more important than his over-break essay. Information confirming that Malfoy was _powerful._

Harry looked around the library, no one was close enough to hear their conversation. He wasn't sure why he didn't want anyone to hear what he was about to bring up, it just somehow felt private. He didn't want anyone else to know.

"Malfoy and I talked," Harry spoke blankly, not bothering to gain his friends' attention to begin with.

Hermione and Ron both looked up at him in surprise, Hermione's eyebrows raised.

"Blimey, at this point I thought the git had lost his voice during the war. Was glad for it. What venom is he spitting now?" Ron teased, yet clearly interested.

Harry snorted slightly at Ron's comment, unable to hold back a snicker—Hermione exasperatingly commenting, _"Ronald!_ I'm sure Malfoy didn't bother bullying Harry."

Harry spoke, a smirk still on his face, "While when I went upstairs to grab this book," he indicated the book laying on the table in front of him, "Malfoy looked like he was all packed to leave, trunk and everything. I asked him where he was going."

"And?" Hermione was obviously curious, gears turning in her head, "What did he say? He isn't dropping out, is he?"

"I honestly expected him to curse me out for being in his business. Turns out he left for winter break today."

Ron shook his head, voicing the same question Harry had for Malfoy in the moment, "What about the Hogwarts Express? Is he not taking it to King's Cross tomorrow?"

Harry shook his head, beginning to speak with his hands in his emotion, "That's the thing you guys, he said he was _apparating_ home today with McGonagall's permission from outside the charms protecting the castle."

Ron was speechless, face clearly taking the information in, as Hermione claimed in amazement, "From here to Wiltshire?"

Harry nodded.

"It takes a powerful wizard to apparate so far away safely, I doubt Malfoy would put himself in danger when he could've just taken the train. McGonagall gave him approval, and I can say the same for her. I didn't realize Malfoy was so—" Hermione's voice traced away, unable to find the word she was looking for.

"Capable?" Ron joked, unable to pass the opportunity. Hermione shot Ron a look, causing him to laugh, "Relax, 'Mione. It's difficult not to treat Malfoy like the pushover he is anymore, its habit. Gotta admit it's odd without him making comments towards us this year. Have no one good to pick a fight with anymore!"

"If I was a bit more daring I'd say it sounds like you miss it, Ronald." Hermione joked as she went back to the textbook in front of her, a smile growing on her face in victory as Ron shrugged,

"Wonder if his oh so great father going to prison for good finally shut the git up. It's a wonder him and his mother aren't sharing a cell with him."

Harry swallowed, feeling his heart tighten a bit. He wasn't sure why he never told his best friends that he went to the Malfoy's and his mother's hearing, defending their innocence and fighting for their freedom. _He _knew why he had done it, he felt in debt to Narcissa Malfoy. He felt guilty for Malfoy to get dragged into the war, the same way he himself had. The light might not have been able to win the war if she hadn't helped him out. And surely if she was proven innocent, her son had to be as well.

Yeah sure, Malfoy was attempting to kill Dumbledore for a whole school year, but Harry couldn't forget that night at the Astronomy Tower. Malfoy clearly did not _want_ to do the deed. As uncomfortable as it made Harry, Malfoy didn't identify him to the Death Eaters back when they were taken to Malfoy Manor. He _had_ to have known it was him.

Harry admitted that he wanted to ask Malfoy about it, he wanted to know what he saw during the war. Between what Harry saw and heard about, Malfoy Manor was Voldemort's hideout and the Death Eaters met there as well. Living there could not have been pleasant for him and his mother. He wondered the sorts of stuff he had seen. Yes, Harry had plenty he wanted to ask Malfoy about.

Not that Malfoy had any reason to tell him about any of it.

He knew that the blonde was enduring a fair amount of bullying from the Hogwarts student body, and maybe that was the reason he wasn't lashing out and him and his friends anymore. Part of Harry found it satisfying, as if karma was finally kicking him in the arse and he was getting a piece of his own medicine.

But a larger part of him hated the bullying about the war. About the decisions he knew Malfoy was forced to make, he understood what it was like not to have a choice. Hell, he was never chosen to become a part of that prophecy, just as Malfoy didn't have a choice of the family he was born into it. He hadn't told his friends too much, but he heard Malfoy the night Dumbledore died. Voldemort was threatening not only him but his family as well. He didn't have a choice.

"—Harry? Oh man he's doing it again…" Ron shook his head as he looked down in disappointment.

Being brought out of his thoughts by Ron saying his name, his eyes widened before he snapped up, asking, "What? What am I doing?"

"That thing. That thing you do when you daydream about Malfoy. I'd recognize that look anywhere."

His jaw dropped, and he felt his face head up in embarrassment, "What do you mean by that?"

Hermione chuckled, "Guess some things never change, do they Ronald?"

"H-hey! What are you talking about?" Harry exclaimed quietly, not understanding what it was his friends were on about.

Hermione just smiled, and looked back down at the book in front of her, "Oh nothing, let's just get back to this essay…"

Shaking his head, he decided to ignore his friends and get back to his thoughts. They all led him to one thing.

_I need to talk to Malfoy._


End file.
